


seekers, finders

by whiplash



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, First Crush, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:15:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23293084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiplash/pseuds/whiplash
Summary: Aaron’s eleven years old when The Letter arrives.
Relationships: Aaron Dingle/Robert Sugden
Kudos: 20





	seekers, finders

Aaron’s eleven years old when The Letter arrives.

He’s sitting near the swings in the park, his brand-new trainers poking a hole in the ground and the wooden bench hard and cold underneath his sore bottom. A couple of fat pigeons trot across the grass, taking turns at pecking on what’s left of a sweet bun. Aaron’s own belly growls and twists at the sight, reminding him that it’s well past tea-time. All the other kids have long since left and the shadows have crept long and dark across the abandoned playground. 

Lost as he is in his own thoughts, Aaron doesn’t notice the arrival of the owl until it screeches at him. At the sound, Aaron promptly falls off the bench. 

“Fuck,” he shouts, his voice loud and thin and his heart hammering in his chest as he crawls backwards across the gravelled path. “Bloody fucking hell …” 

Dad would box his ears for that kind of language, would send him up to his room without tea to wait and wait and wait, but that doesn’t keep the words from pouring out of his mouth. There’s an owl – a real, honest to god, mother-fucking owl – sitting on the back of the bench, its claws digging into the back of the bench and its eyes locked on Aaron with such intent that it makes his skin crawl. Aaron’s hands scrabble desperately behind him, finally closing around something hard and cold. 

The rock whines through the air, slamming into the bench with enough force to dent the wood. 

The owl’s already in the air though, its wings much larger than Aaron had expected as they flap up a storm. It screeches again – the sound a cross between that of an angry cat and a hissing pipe – before it soars up towards the dark sky. Aaron stares after it, his breath evening out as it finally disappears out of sight. 

“Fuck,” he whispers to himself, stumbling to his feet and wiping the palms of his hands against his jeans. His legs feel like overcooked spaghetti underneath him as he forces himself to walk back to the bench. There are claw marks, stark white, on the dark wood and even a couple of feathers. He picks one up, quietly marvelling at its softness. 

Jamming it into his back pocket for safe-keeping, he then looks around for more evidence of the owl. 

And that’s when he sees The Letter. 

xxx 

_Dear Mr. Livesey,_

__

__

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

__

__

_Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July._

__

__

_Yours sincerely,_

__

__

_Minerva McGonagall_

xxx 

It’s not a smooth ride, far from, but somehow Aaron makes it. 

He makes it to bloody fucking Hogwarts. 

xxx 

He sits squeezed in with the other first years, Adam on one side and Victoria on the other. The wind nips at his cheeks and fingers, but other than that he’s more than warm enough. The school robe’s thick, and aunt Lisa had sent him a package with a knitted scarf and hat. 

When the game begins, it’s wild and unpredictable. The beaters slam the bludgers through the air, and the chasers pass the Quaffle between each other. It’s not like any sport that Aaron’s ever seen before, and he’s happy that uncle Zak had sat him down to explain the rules or he wouldn’t be able to make head or tails out of it. Their stand is an ocean of red and gold, and when the crowd erupts into cheers, the benches rattles underneath them. 

Glancing over at his new friends, he finds them both grinning, as happy as he’s ever seen them. 

At the next goal, Aaron shouts louder than any other first year. Next to him Adam hoots and Vic’s not late to join them. A prefect shushes them, but it’s half-hearted at best and a second-year offers them a handful of half-melted chocolates. Aaron rams two pieces into his mouth, happily chewing them up into a sweet and sticky slop that he then swallows whole. 

“Go Gryffindor,” he shouts again, just because he can. 

That’s when the Slytherin seeker swoops past them, close enough that Aaron can make out the individual bristles of the broom. He looks up and instead of just the flicker of green and silver that he expects, he catches a glimpse of the seeker’s smile. It’s wide, with stretched pink lips and perfect white teeth, and above that smile, there’s a sea of freckles, a pair of bright blue eyes and a mop of unruly blonde hair. 

The shout dies in Aaron’s throat, but his mouth stays open as his eyes follow the seeker’s every move across the cloudy sky. He’s a reckless flier, but his skills more than make up for it. Aaron forgets all about cheering for his house as he watches the other team’s seeker out-manoeuvre the other players, ducking bludgers and giving mad chase after the glittering Snitch. It’s not until his chest begins to hurt that he realizes that he’s been holding his breath and it’s not until hours later, when he’s tucked up in his bed in the Gryffindor tower and he still can’t stop thinking about the Slytherin seeker, that he realizes that he’s well and truly fucked. 

xxx 

“Yeah,” Vic says. “That would be Rob. He’s my brother... and an utter knob.”

**Author's Note:**

> Harry Potter AU. Yup. That was an idea burnt which bright and hot for all of one afternoon. Then I realized the epic shit ton of work it would require, and nope, not gonna happen. But here's a quick few scenes anyway :)


End file.
